


Ties

by Nightsister



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Danny "Danno" Williams, M/M, Schmoop, Season 1, Ties & Cravats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightsister/pseuds/Nightsister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Steve was annoyed with Danny's tie, and one time he came to appreciate it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ties

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to be inspired by prompts that I just happen to see at random places. I sat on this one FOREVER, though, and it's taken me this long to get it done. Unbeta'd, unfortunately, as I can't seem to find one in this fandom. Please let me know if you see any weirdness.

**1\. The first time**

He was haole, _fresh meat from the mainland_ , Chin had said. He was loud, he spoke with his hands, he was by the book. And it had taken an order from the damn governor of Hawaii herself to get him to back the hell down.

He had been HPD’s lead detective in charge of finding the man who had killed Steve McGarrett’s father.

Never mind that he’d come up with the name that led them to Hesse’s human smuggling contact, or that he seemed, despite his unflagging inclination to following rules and regulations, tough enough to take a bullet with (somewhat) minimal whining.

But he still wore a goddamn tie every day to work. It was _professional_ , he’d said. It was what they did in _New Jersey_. He didn’t want to fit in with the Hawaiian lifestyle. He preferred grimy and noisy and dress shoes over tropical and colorful and beach slippers. Hawaii hadn’t been a choice. He’d leave in a minute, if his daughter wasn’t there.

The tie was a constant reminder of the life Danny had left behind, of the life he wanted to return to, would return to, if given a chance.

The tie wasn’t just an annoyance. Steve hated it.

**2\. Noodles**

“Would you just take that thing off already?” Steve snapped. “Or just... throw it behind your shoulder or something. Christ, Danny, your lunch is getting cold.”

Chin suddenly found something very funny and extremely fascinating in his bowl of steaming, fragrant ramen, but Kono looked sympathetic.

“You want one of my hair ties?” she offered. “I should have another one.” She had indeed tied her hair back when they’d first sat down in Kiwami Ramen ( _it always falls into the soup, so irritating_ she’d said) and she was now digging into her jean pocket when Danny stopped her with an outstretched hand.

“Ah look, thank you, but no,” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, I know how to eat ramen without getting it all over myself. And how would a hair tie help me anyway? I got this.” He smoothed his tie with a flourish and tucked the end into the waistband of his slacks. “See? I’m cool.”

“Danny, that’ll never be cool anywhere,” Steve remarked absently, digging into his own bowl of noodles. He paused and looked up, a glistening slice of pork belly expertly held in his chopsticks. “And really. You’ve eaten ramen before.”

“YES,” Danny said, waving a hand for emphasis. “Rachel worked for Ernst & Young in Times Square for a while when we first got married, and every Friday night if I was free I’d meet her in the city and we’d go to this little place not far from her building. It wasn’t fancy like this but the waiters were all Japanese.” He paused before adding, “or at least I think they were Japanese. I dunno, they all spoke to each other and I’m pretty sure the hostess was Japanese, so-”

Chin looked up from his interesting bowl of ramen with an amused, _I can’t believe you’re sitting next to me_ chuckle while Kono made a coughing sound into her fist, but Steve just rolled his eyes. “And this experience in New York City among waiters who may or may not have been real Japanese people makes you some kind of a noodle expert. The guy who can’t keep his neckwear out of his food.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I was an expert!” Danny shot back. “And yeah, okay, they were definitely Japanese. So before you go any further with your frowning and your doubting, watch this.” He bent over his bowl, grabbed a good portion of noodles with his chopsticks, and proceeded to loudly slurp most of them into his mouth. “See?” he said, after swallowing. He bent over again and fished for more noodles with his chopsticks. “Okay wow, this is really good.”

“Well I’m impressed,” Chin said, grinning. “You can tell who’s not used to eating ramen-”

“Because they eat so quietly,” Kono finished, grinning in return. “Yeah, so maybe Danny’s telling the truth.”

“Of course I’m telling the truth! Aw, crap.” Danny grabbed the napkin off his lap, dipped it into his glass of ice water, and started dabbing at the stain on his tie where it had fallen into his soup. “Dammit. SHUT UP, you.”

Steve smirked into his bowl, but said nothing.

**3\. The date**

Steve whistled as Danny swaggered out of his office in full black tie formal. He wasn’t all that familiar with fashion beyond khaki cargos and wet suits and the occasional dress uniform or civilian suit, but even he could tell that this particular tuxedo wasn’t a mere rental.

“Look at you, hot stuff!” he said, grinning. “That’s definitely a step up from the maitre d’ look you were sporting last month.” 

Danny just snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know that this is handmade-to-wear Armani, bitch,” he said, with a flourish of hands. “You think I’d take this baby out on a job?” He pivoted and held out his arms. “It _is_ pretty nice though, huh?”

Steve silently agreed with more enthusiasm than he let on and felt his smile dim. Unfortunately, the warmth in his eyes wasn’t something he could hide. Not from Danny. “Still finding ways to wear a tie, too. Even off duty.”

“Well, yeah. I got invited to this... thing.”

“Oh yeah?” One of Steve’s eyebrows went up. A date? “You, uh, going on a date?” Inwardly he winced at how hoarse his voice sounded. “In your best clothes?”

Danny blushed and quickly dropped his head, and dammit if Steve’s heart didn’t fall into his stomach. “You are!” he said, a little too loudly. He hoped that Danny would think he was being teased. “Little Danny, all grown up.”

“Okay, okay, knock it off with the height jokes,” Danny grumbled. He let a smile slip. “Rachel was given tickets to this charity event and since she took Grace to spend the weekend in Hong Kong with Stan, she gave them to me.”

Steve was that kid who always, always picked at his scabs. This felt no different. “And where are you going that warrants a fancy bespoke monkey suit, huh? And with a date?”

The huff that Danny gave in reply was fond, and made Steve’s heart flip again. “Not that this is any of your business, but it’s a cocktail party at Habana Cabana.”

“The new cigar bar?” Steve frowned, leaned back and crossed his arms. “You’ll get your suit all smelly. Your date’s gonna love getting cigar smoke out of her dress.”

“That’s what dry cleaning’s for,” Danny said with a shrug. He turned to leave, but not without one final, sly, parting shot. “And I never said my date was a woman. See ya Monday.”

Steve stared at his partner’s back, unable to breathe.

**4\. Gunshot**

Steve scowled as he quickly surveyed the container yard. He had one suspect in handcuffs being led away by two uniforms but the other had taken off into the maze of large shipping containers and could be anywhere by now. He turned on his two-way radio and hissed, “Damn it, Harrigan took off. Anybody got eyes? Kono?”

Kono’s voice was tinny and small over the static of the radio. _“Nothing. I’m makau side, heading southeast.”_

“Chin?”

_“Yeah. Near the harbor office. Nothing by me.”_

“Danny?”

A heavy pause of silence, and Steve was just about to berate his partner through the radio when he heard several sharp reports in the distance. Kono’s voice came over immediately.

_“Shots fired! I repeat, shots fired! Didn’t see anything but right near me, sounds like! Everybody okay?”_

Shit shit shit. Steve hadn’t seen Harrigan carrying a gun. He should’ve seen it. “Danny. Danny!”

He took off into the warren of containers, towards Kono and the Coast Guard base, when Danny’s voice finally came over the radio.

_“Yeah.”_ He sounded pissed off. _“Son of a bitch... got Harrigan but he stabbed... gut... wait, shit...”_

Steve’s immediate relief that the gunshots weren’t from Harrigan dawned into horror when he realized what Danny had said. Stabbed. In the abdomen. He ran harder, yelling at his partner along the way. _Keep him talking, find him._ “Listen to me, Danny. You know where you are?”

_“What...? Are you kidding?”_

“No, Danny, come on. Stay with me. Anything written on the containers? Any weird smells? What do you hear?”

As soon as the last words were out of his mouth, Steve heard the dull roar of a large airplane climbing into the clouds, over to the northeast. “Danny! Look up - can you see anything in the sky?”

_“Huh? Uh, yeah.” The voice over the radio was getting weaker, faltering. “Plane... right above me, going, uh... right to left...”_

“Okay, okay. Good. Kono? You close?”

_“Yeah.”_ He could hear her breathing - she was running, and hard. _“Should be right near - Danny!”_

Steve ran even faster, zigzagging through the enormous containers, cursing as he turned into a dead end, then finding a break in the row near the water. “Kono, I’m on the docks. Tell me where you are.”

Kono sounded rushed, still breathing heavy, on the edge of panic. _“I-I don’t know. Dammit, I didn’t think to look! We’re about two rows in, away from the water, between containers. Should I try to move Danny so-”_

_“No,”_ Chin broke in. _“Don’t move him. Leave him if you have to, so we can find you. You’re fine, cuz. How is he?”_

Steve heard the loud in and out breaths as Kono pulled herself together. _“I can’t leave him. He’s awake but his pulse is weak.”_ There was pause and a quick, _“Stop, Danny! Cut it out, stay down!”_ before she continued. _“There’s a lot of blood but I'm putting pressure on the entry point and I can’t tell if it stopped bleeding. I don’t want to take my hand away-”_

“Kono, relax. You’re doing great.” Steve was used to working with an elite squad of men, usually under profoundly intense conditions and with a limited amount of air. He was more than impressed with his little rookie cop, considering she was currently the only one preventing Danny from bleeding out. He blew out a shaky breath and ran through the facts in his head. 

“All right, you’re between containers. Is there a space between them? Can you see anything?”

There was a pause and Steve could imagine Kono sitting up and craning her neck to look around her. 

_“Y-Yeah! There’s a straight shot between the containers and I can see the water! Hold on-”_ Another pause. _“Just saw a Hunter go by, blue and white sails. Steve...? Hurry!”_

YES. Sometimes it was better to be lucky than good. Steve saw the same sailboat at the same time. He was close. “Chin, we’re by Pier 52.”

_“Got it, boss. I’m with the paramedics now. We’ll meet you there.”_

The scene, as a near-frantic Steve and Chin came upon it, was a bizarre one of red, white and blue: the blue cargo container made a strange backdrop to Kono, stripped down to a her white bikini top, pressing her now ruined red Henley onto Danny’s torso. She had even taken his tie, one of his favorite ‘lucky’ ties given to him by his beloved daughter, as a makeshift dressing. It had been a dark blue with cheery yellow stripes. He was never going to wear it again. 

“Boss?” Kono’s voice was faint, the adrenaline was draining away, her hands finally shaking. She stood to let Chin and the paramedics take over without complaint, moving into Steve’s arms as he silently watched them work. There was so much blood.

He took off his button down and wrapped her in it. She was shivering, and not from the cold. “I’m here, Kono. You did good,” he finally said, rubbing her back. “You did good.”

It was two days later when Steve finally made it to the hospital while Danny was awake. Detective Williams had been extremely lucky, the doctors said. While the knife had penetrated the peritoneal cavity, it hadn’t gone deep enough to hit anything important. They’d been monitoring him for signs of infection, but barring that, he would be able to leave soon.

Which was a good thing, because a bedridden Danny was insufferable. Steve couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about it, though, because insufferable meant alive, and he’d take that every time. 

“Do you know how many young perky nurses and interns asked me if I’ve ‘passed gas’ yet?” Danny groused, as Steve walked into the private recovery room. He didn’t even have to make air quotes with his fingers, as they were quite clear. “Like whether a patient farted or not was the highlight of their careers or something.”

“Good to see you too, partner,” Steve said mildly, holding back the urge to grin like an idiot. “You had major surgery and they had to move your insides around," he pointed out. "Passing gas means your bowels are returning to normal. It’s a sign of recovery.”

“Yeah, yeah,” came the grumbling reply. “I don’t even want to know if you’re talking from experience or not. Ah-” Danny held up a finger when Steve opened his mouth to speak. “I know, it’s classified. And really, you don’t have to tell me anyway. I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t want to know.” Finished with his rant about overly inquisitive caregivers and private, personal bodily functions, he realized that his visitor had a hand behind his back. “Watcha got there?”

Steve finally gave in and grinned like an idiot. “Got where?”

Danny rolled his eyes and moved his hand in a _gimme gimme_ motion. “Hi, invalid here. Patient in a hospital who needs lots of TLC and gifts, and not in that order. Come on, give it up.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, even as something in his chest squeezed almost painfully at the thought of _Danny_ and _tender loving care_. He quashed that thought and handed over a long, flat box. “Your tie, the one you were wearing when-” he swallowed. “It-it helped save your life, you know? I just thought, since your tie got ruined, that-”

“What-?” Danny huffed a laugh, immediately wincing. He held up a hand as Steve loomed protectively closer. “No, I’m fine. It’s- I mean, I know that box shape anywhere, but-” he turned the box over and stared at the logo on the lid. “Hermes?” He looked up, stunned but grinning. “You got me an _Hermes_ tie?”

Steve stepped back and crossed his arms defensively. “Well yeah,” he said, frowning. “You’re Mr. _I have an Armani tux_ and the salesperson said that this is a classic and-” His eyes grew soft, remembering, as Danny opened his gift. “I know your tie got a lot of blood on it... anyway, I know it was one of your Father’s Day ties and this can’t replace it but I figured-”

“I love it.” Danny carefully lifted the Hermes tie out of its protective layer of tissue paper and held it up. “Steve, it’s... wow. It’s not something I’ll ever wear to work, that's for sure.” He glanced up and noticed Steve getting ready to object. “No, seriously, if something happens to this I’ll end up crying and that wouldn’t be attractive. It’s, ah,” he cleared his throat. “It’s definitely a date tie.”

The warm feeling in Steve chest grew cold and dropped to his stomach. He’d given his... partner something that he would wear with someone else. Someone not him. “That’ll make a nice story at dinner, huh?” He said impassively. “‘I love your tie’ ‘Thanks, my partner got it for me after I got stabbed in the gut.’” He cleared his throat, trying desperately not to sound as pathetic as he felt. “At least wear it to work once, okay? So I can see it.” 

Steve’s inner voice was screaming _abort, delete, walk away!_ but it was too late. Days of sitting on uncomfortable plastic chairs, staring across at Rachel as she awkwardly tried to make conversation, or enduring Chin and Kono’s sympathetic looks while the surgeon spoke about Danny’s chances of recovery had taken their toll. He was punch drunk with exhaustion, and he mentally kicked himself for buying that stupid tie: it was too symbolic, too expensive, too revealing, too much-

“Ah, no,” Danny said again. “I would never wear something this nice to work. I wouldn’t even wear this to court, it’s the kind of thing that’ll make all my work shirts look like shitty rags, so I... no.” He looked up again, and made sure he faced Steve squarely in the eye. “I guess you’re just gonna have to go out with me, somewhere nice. Someplace I can wear this tie. And you’ll put on a tie too.” 

“I’ll put on a tie.” Steve knew he was staring, knew he recognized the words coming out of his partner’s mouth, but for some reason nothing was really making sense, or even sinking in. “But nobody wears a tie in Hawaii,” he said, by rote.

“I wear a tie in Hawaii,” Danny pointed out grumpily. “Jeez, I’m lying in a hospital bed and I just got this gorgeous gift and you can wear a damn tie just once. I’ll take you someplace fancy, I promise.”

Suddenly Steve got it. He really did. He grinned. He thought maybe another trip to the Hermes store was in order. He’d seen a blue tie that would go nicely with his favorite suit. “It’s a date,” he said.


End file.
